Fool of a Took
by Vicious94
Summary: When little, Bilbo dreamed of adventure and elves. Now a mature hobbit, the opportunity is given to him and Bilbo will learn that perhaps he is more of a Took than he believed himself to be. Nonetheless, will he able to prove to Thorin there's more to him than meets the eye? Thorin/Bilbo fluff with a bit of slash in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- _I don't own anything. This idea came up half-way through my previous story and I wondered; Why not? And, as I have time to spare, I immediately got started on it. Hope you enjoy what's up so far! Smaug smiles and grants mercy to those who review :)_

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**1. A Baggins but a Took too**

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It was quiet, like always. Unlike it had been when those twelve dwarves had swarmed his home. Bilbo sneaked around his little hobbit hole, making absolutely certain that the dwarves had indeed left and were not sleeping around. Indeed, they were gone and he was surprised to find that everything had been left in absolute order, as if nothing had happened. The only thing that proved that the wizard and the dwarves' visit had been indeed real where two things: his empty larder, and the scroll waiting for his signature.

Bilbo couldn't take his eyes of the paper, staring at Thorin and Balin's signature, inviting him, tempting his curious side. Bilbo shook his head. No, no, this adventure promised to be dangerous, uncomfortable and very, very long. Gandalf had said so, there was no promise for his return. Was his curiosity worth his life? All of the dwarves had been trained at least in some art of fighting, while he knew nothing, and they suffered the same risks that he did. What could possibly stop him from being the first to die? Nothing and no one!

He took the scroll, skimmed through it lazily and started walking to the exit of his house and buy some supplies, he opened the door and was met with the tranquility and silence of the Shire. The too tranquil town where he'd spent all of his childhood, growth and if he didn't move out, would be his place of death. Yes, the life and death of any respectable and common hobbit should have.

His home was higher than the rest so he had a perfect sight towards the horizon, to the hills and trees that hid whatever was behind them. Hiding this tranquil, calm place from whatever was forth.

_Too tranquil. Too calm. Too quiet. Too boring…_

What was out there? Desire and curiosity started to arise in him. Just like when he was a child and ventured into the woods in the search of elves. Yes, he remembered, part of him now still wanted to wander, while the other bickered. He remembered how dissapointed he would come back to these walls at finding nothing, hours and hours of search to come back empty handed, to only listen to great adventures and stories books told.

And now, he was being offered to take part in an adventure and... he rejected it?

He was not only a Baggins of Bad End of the Shire, he was also a Took. Within moments Bilbo looked at the paper in his hands and without further words he closed the door and readied a bag with clothing and provisions. He sat on his desk and with feather in hand he started to fill in the missing space, his mind and body overflowing with adrenaline.

When done, he took off, running through the grass, passing by neighbors, houses and harvest, caring little for the disapproving glances he got from many, as only one thought ruled in his mind; he was going on an adventure! He would see what was beyond the Shire! He ran and ran, following the trail that lead away from the Shire, and the beginning of his adventure, a smile on his face as the paper flapped with the wind. He just hoped they weren't too far, or he wouldn't be able to catch up to them.

"Wait! Wait!" He screamed as he faintly spotted the dwarves. At the sound of his voice they stopped and Bilbo soon caught up to them. He slowed down, catching his breath and pushed his chest forward, like a proud peacock as he lifted his arm. "I signed it! I signed it!"

Some were surprised, others seemed to disapprove and minority just didn't really care, but Bilbo did not miss Gandalf's smile as he handed the paper to Balin, who turned to Thorin to confirm the validity of Bilbo's words.

Bilbo loturned to Thorin, not knowing what to expect, perhaps see delight or satisfaction, he waited and waited but the dwarf gave no noticeable expression, just the same hardened blank face. "Give him a pony." He ordered and turned to keep on his way, and Bilbo hated to say it, but that slight fact of unimportance hurt him more than he believed it would.

"No, there's no need for that. I can walk." Argued the hobbit, obviously scared to mount these four legged creatures, but the dwarves wouldn't hear and in a blink of an eye, he found himself sitting on a pony, Myrtle her name was.

"I'm glad you came, my dear Bilbo." Gandalf hummed as joined the terrified Bilbo's side, who had his fingers locked on the pony's rails like his life depended on it. He was then startled by a set of small bags been thrown over, tingling as they flied and landed. He inquired and Gandalf chukled. "They made wagers to see if you'd come or not."

"What about you Gandalf?" Asked the hobbit, quite hurt that not many thought he'd come, the wizard made a blank face, ignoring Bilbo's, who was imagining the worst, until he stretched his arm and caught a little bag, a smile on his face.

"I never doubted you, my boy."

Bilbo smiled along with the wizard.

**#**

"What was that?!" Gasped Bilbo, scooping his surroundings like an eagle, Fili and Kili looked at each other, their frisky intent obvious to all but tired Bilbo.

"Orcs." Whispered Kili, taking a bite of bread. "They attack during night when no one is aware, when you're most weak, and leave nothing, not even bones. They say they have a taste for hobbit meat, you should be careful Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo gulped loudly, his fear growing evidently, his back glued to the stone wall. He then jumped in fright when the two dwarves burst out into laughter, making Bilbo realize they had been toying with him. He frowned and was about to say something, but Thorin's words devoured his own.

"Do you think it's funny?" He snapped, making theyoung dwarves cease their laughter and look wide-eyed at their uncle. "Orcs are nothing to laugh about."

Bilbo found Thorin's anger intimidating and threatening, yet he couldn't understand, why so much hatred towards orcs? Not like he was defending them, no. he just wondered, and Balin told him.

The story of how Azog, the pale orc, lead the armies of orcs against the dwarves, beginning the vicious battle over Mordor. How he beheaded and killed Thorin's grandfather, Thror, and almost succeeded to kill Thorin as well, and how in the end the young dwarf prevailed and lead them to victory but had lost many in the battle, including his brother; Frerin.

Then Bilbo understood, Thorin was one who had endured much in his life; exiled from his home by Smaug the Terrible, betrayed by allies, and rightful king of the people of Erebor. Thorin was a man with many burdens and emotional scars.

"There is one, I would follow." Finished Balin, admiration obvious in his voice as Thorin stood before him, back towards the group, his blue eyes staring into the horizon, filled with several emotions, good and bad, yet determined. "There is one that deserves to be called king."

And Bilbo couldn't help but agree. Thorin was not an usual dwarf, and that just made him much more reliable and respectable. Bilbo had never met anyone like these dwarves before, let alone anyone as fascinating like Thorin Oakenshield.

**#**

Everyone was asleep, except for Bilbo, who found it difficult to sleep in the harsh mountain floor, rocky and harsh, nothing compared to his warm bed back in the Shire. He turned and twisted his body to try and make the uncomfortability bearable, but in the end, he gave up and decided to poke the camp fire with a stick, entertaining himself more than he believed he would, unaware that two set of blue eyes were staring at him from the darkness.

"You should sleep, Halfling. We will leave first hour of the day." Thorin made his presence known, stepping out of the shadows, startling Bilbo. "We will not wait for you."

Bilbo stuttered. "I understand, but it's not like I'm awake because I wish to."

Thorin rose an eyebrow.

"You see I've never slept outside before. And to be quite honest I'm not liking it much either. It's rather uncomfortable…and cold." He shivered violently, pulling himself closer to the fire to warm up. Thorin glared at the hobbit for longer, who was himself peeking at the king from the corner of his eyes, not knowing what to do.

"You'll get used to it." Commented Thorin and took a seat by the fire, taking out his sword and running thick, calloused fingers through the smooth metal. Ignoring Bilbo who now took his turn to stare at the older dwarf in the most obvious manner. They remained like that for a while, until Thorin spoke again. "Is there something you want?"

"Oh, no, not at all."

"Then why are you staring at me?" Bilbo was surprised that even if they weren't making eye contact, he could still feel threatened by the gruff, deep voice. Everything about Thorin was intimidating, and screamed danger. "Am I amusing or what?"

"No! Anything but that!" Oh, be quiet, you fool, don't make him angrier! Bilbo internally slapped himself. "I just find you interesting." And fascinating. "You are not like most dwarves."

Thorin stopped tending his sword and lifted his face to make their eyes meet. Bilbo immediately froze, not daring to move a muscle. "Do you know all dwarves?"

"No."

"Then how do you know I'm not like most of them?" Bilbo knew that Thorin was just making that question to make Bilbo realize how stupid his previous statement had been, which made him flush all the way to his ears. Never, ever, had anyone made him feel embarrassed or stupid, and here was Thorin, treating him like a child.

"I was trying to make a compliment by making a comparison to what I read of your kind, which is not extraordinary—mind you— and to the rest of the company—which truly hasn't amazed me either."

"We're not here to impress you, hobbit." Hissed Thorin, sheathing his sword back in place and moving over to examine his infamous oak-shield, leaving Bilbo gaping, mouth hanging in a lack of words.

Things obviously weren't going as he had planned, he was trying to get on Thorin's good side, but it seemed that when he opened his mouth, his Took side took over and spilled whatever stupidity came in mind. If he was succeeding at something, that something was making Thorin hate his guts.

Bilbo sighed. "That's not what I meant! This-this is obviously coming out all wrong. What I meant to say, is that you stand out from the rest, you are admirable and I believe your people would do well with a leader such as yourself to learn from."

"I understood the compliment; it is appreciated but not necessary." Said Thorin, his voice soft and accessible, something Bilbo couldn't think possible. Then, the unimaginable happened, Thorin smiled. _Smiled at him_! "Why is your face red?"

"It's not." Blabbered Bilbo, a hand over to his face, trying to hide the blush that had crept over his face. Confused and dazed he hid in the shadows; why on earth was he blushing? It was just a simple smile. Just a smile, for Baggins' sake! It's not the first time someone did so! Gandalf did it, Balin too, Kili and Fili as well!

"I know what I saw." Accused the dwarf, his confusion obvious.

"It must be the cold." Lamely lied Bilbo, eyes away from Thorin as he tried to calm himself. Suddenly, he had something heavy and warm fall over his shoulders, and Bilbo whipped his head to turn over and Thorin returning to his seat, his coat gone, the same coat was now hanging loosely on Bilbo's shoulders. "You can give it back by morning."

Bilbo was about to say so otherwise, but then his shivering body made his jaw click shut. "Thank you, how kind of you." He said, it was the most polite thing to say at the moment, and Thorin made no further comments, making silence rule between them again.

"How old are you, Halfling?"

"Why, fifty."

Thorin's eyes grew wide. "You're young."

"Young? Why, thank you, I am told I do look rather youthful, but in the Shire I am considered a mature hobbit."

"That's not what I meant. Fili and Kili are over twenty five years older than you, and they are children in our eyes." Explained Thorin.

"Oh." No wonder everyone treated him as if he were a child, to them he was indeed a child. How awkward, strange and interesting. "Yes, well, maturity is also defined by one's wisdom and mind, not simple age."

"Fifty years of wisdom is not the same as hundred fifty years of wisdom."

"You have experienced more than I, but that doesn't exactly mean expansion of knowledge. Age is irrelevant." Concluded Bilbo.

"Your knowledge and wisdom will always remain limited nonetheless. With time comes change, in change comes experience, from experience you gain knowledge, and from knowledge wisdom. Age is relevant. You wouldn't understand, you can't even live beyond a couple of changes; your life is too short, you'll die before you can witness one."

Bilbo gasped, frowned and then pouted. "That remark was unnecessary, just plain rude in fact."

"It's the truth." Thorin belittled, and Bilbo felt like he was being scolded like child, which he hated. He certainly was not a child!

"Yes, well, I'm sorry I can't live beyond a hundred years to biker to youngsters about my adventures and great deeds." Bilbo stood up, towering over the dwarf, who looked at him lazily. "You may be a great king and all, but I will not let you treat me like a child. I am a Baggins, and I will be treated as such!"

With that he turned on his heels and walked over to his sleeping spot, his back boldly facing Thorin as he accomodated himself. Pushing the thought that Thorin might kill him for his insubordination to the darkest corner of his mind. Hobbits might be lazy, but they are not stupid, and they certainly have their pride, and Bilbo was certainly going to protect it. The hobbit gave out a yawn, closed his eyes and ignored the dwarf's gaze burning his back and tugged the coat around himself, finding it rather warming and soft.

Thorin's coat smelled of wood and grass, just like he'd expected it so, and for some reason he liked it and reminded him of the Shire, with that thought in mind he cuddled in it, and soon found his sleep. Absolutely oblivious that Gandalf had been awake the whole time, amused by the hobbit's boldness.

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End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

**I forgot to mention this in the summary: The story will have a mix of the book and movie, for there are aspects I like from both. Thank you for your support guys, I hope you like this chapter as well.**

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Bilbo was awakened by a hand shaking him softly by the shoulder, he blinked a few times to get adapted to the bright light of day and rubbed his fists on his sore eyes before stretching them high over his head and letting out a loud yawn. After settling from his loud awakening, Bilbo heard a chuckle.

"Gandalf." The hobbit acknowledged and greeted. "Good morning."

"Good morning, my dear Bilbo, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, surprisingly so." Honestly said Bilbo, a tired smile on his face.

"Good, good, I'm glad you did. You did look tired yesterday. Now that you're awake it would be best if we made haste and caught up to the rest."

"What?" Bilbo looked around, and it was true indeed, the camp was empty, desolated if not for Myrtle and Gandalf's horse. With a jerk he was on his feet, rapidly packing his belongings, mounting the pony and ready to part when suddenly it hit him. He ran his hands over himself then into the bags and searched. "Oh, no."

He jumped off the pony and checked through everything thoroughly, arms shaking, heart beating fast and mind racing with several thoughts. Then he stopped to succumb to horror. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no! Thorin was going to have his head for looing it! No, he's a Baggins, and Baggins don't lose things. Bilbo turned to Gandalf, who was looking at him with curiosity.

"Gandalf, by any chance did you see the coat I had this morning? A black, furry coat?"

"Thorin's coat?" Gandalf, recalling what he'd heard last night. Now aware what was troubling the small fellow.

"Yes, that's the one. Have you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Where?"

"On Thorin when he left this morning."

Bilbo froze. Here he was, searching like mad for the dwarf's coat, getting the scare of his life, and wasting valid time, for nothing?!

Gandalf was amused by Bilbo's face of shock and can't help but whisper to himself. "Fool of a Took." Then he raised his voice. "Come on Bilbo, we don't want to keep them waiting for long." Said Gandalf. "A Baggins is never late."

Bilbo sighed. "A Baggins is never late." He agreed.

**# **

There was Thorin, mounting his pony gracefully, with his coat on and an icy glare fixed on Bilbo's small figure as he rode towards them. "You're late."

"We're never late, or too early, we are just in time." Said the wizard, but telling that Thorin was not mad at him but at Bilbo he quickly added. "I allowed Bilbo further sleep than meant to, my apologies."

"He's old enough to take care of himself." Bilbo snapped his head up, taken off guard by Thorin's reminder of their talk yesterday. The tone of the dwarf made Bilbo realize that their conversation hadn't changed Thorin's opinion about him. "Aren't you, Halfing?"

"I wouldn't be late if I hadn't thought I'd lost your coat." Explained Bilbo, headstrong. "And I can take care of myself well enough, thank you very much."

"You're quite an impudent for such a small creature." Thorin's eyes turned to slits, and before Bilbo could speak Gandalf silenced him with a glare and made an apologetic gesture to the dwarf king. From there, Thorin spoke. "I believe I told you I would preferably have it back by morning."

"You did." Answered Bilbo. grumpily.

"I thought so." Agreed Thorin. Some of the dwarves chuckle, others remained silent while Thorin returned to the front of the comapny, paying no heed to Bilbo.

"Presemptuous dwarf!" Blurted out Bilbo in a low hiss. "And here I thought he might be the most descent amonsgst them all! I couldn't be more wrong!"

"Shush Bilbo. We have enough anger in this group to have you succumb to it as well." Gandalf tried to ease Bilbo's sudden outburst, he understood why Bilbo was unhappy, such treatment in the Shire was unthinkable. But this was not the Shire, and dwarves were far from respecting Bilbo. "I understand you're angry, but you are far from your home, and you will find that not all are like your people. Try to be a little more tolerating."

Bilbo sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't believe I have the same amount of patience, Gandalf." He then pouted and stared at Thorin's back, mixed feelings raged inside him. "Would it hurt if he were to be a little more considerate of me? It's not like I bragged about being anything but a simple folk."

"You are anything but normal Bilbo." The wizard added, winking at the hobbit as he handed an apple over. "This time don't feed it to the pony." He whispered before taking another apple out and taking a bite, Bilbo remained stupefied by the comment before his rumbling stomach made him eat the apple—he knew it wouldn't be enough to cease his hunger, but he could already tell that he'd have to get used to a lot of things; Like not having five foods a day, not sleeping the required number of hours, waking up at painful hours of the day, and last but not least, adapt to these dwarves, and try to understand them—their leader included.

Between being bothered by the king's nephews; Fili and Kili, the excessive aggressiveness and grumpyness from Dwalin and Dori, Bofur and Ori's constant line of questioning and Bifur speaking to him in dwarfish— god knows what about—Bilbo couldn't believe it could get any worse. And as if the universe wanted to prove him wrong, rainfall poured on them like there was no tomorrow.

Bilbo felt his hair and clothing stick to his skin uncomfortably, drenching and sinking his normally up bound curly hair, and freezing him beyond belief. He felt the pony shudder under him and he can't help to lean over and pet Myrtle tenderly. "It is quite cold isn't it?" His question was rhetorical, but he liked how the pony purred, like she agreed with him. "Hopefully, we don't catch a cold. That would be rather nasty."

It was moments like these that he wished he could be back in the Shire, in his warm, comfortably, dry hobbit hole. Wrapped in his thick, warm nightie, sitting on his chair by the fire reading by the flame's light, skimming the pages, reading of adventures, elves and trolls. But he knew that if that happened, he woudln't grant himself peace for having missed such a chance.

Gandalf chuckles. "Looks like you've taken a liking to the pony, Bilbo, fond of them just like your great-great-great-great grandfather was. You sometimes remind me more of a Took than a Baggins."

"Well, she gets the hard work of carrying and transporting us, she deserves to be spoiled from time to time."

"There are worse things than this, Mr. Baggins." Stepped in Balin.

"Like what?" His curiosity would get the best of him one of these days.

"Being eaten by trollls, orcs and goblins, killed in battle, bleed to death, burned to death—"Started Bofur cheerfully, finally putting his pipe away, giving up on trying smoking it. Bilbo's face turned paler and looked at Myrtle, no longer wanting to hear another of Bofur's _helpful _remarks.

"That—that's enough, thank you, I believe I understand." Bilbo interrupted Bofur, then leaned forward and patted Myrtle, as if consoling her, Bifur snorted and said something to his cousin, who nodded in response, then he turned to Bilbo.

"Don't worry, lad, we're in the best leadership here. Besdies, we all look out for each other. Each other's safety is our priority." He ensured, and then returned to his place in front of Bilbo, who sheepeshly looked at Thorin and wonder if Thorin would go through the trouble of protecting one that was not of his kin.

"Gandfalf, couldn't you make it stop raining?" Asked one of the dwarves, and by the thickness and aggressiveness in it, Bilbo believed it to be Dwalin's or maybe Dori's, but in the mist of rainfall and thunder he couldn't truly be sure.

"It'll stop raining, master dwarf, when the rain is done." Muttered Gandalf ominously.

Everyone hunched in disappointment. "What kind of wizard are you then!?"

Bilbo peeked at Gandalf, who was also at the limit of his patience, take a deep, long sigh, the kind that said 'I'm a wizard, not a miracle worker'. Bilbo didn't really blame him, dwarves weren't know for manners, decency or wits, or being really that tolerable.

"How many wizards are there Gandalf?"

"Five. Including me, Saruman the white, then the two blue wizards— which their names escape me, and Radagast the Brown; a very interesting fellow."

"Are they all like you?" Asked Bilbo curiously, making Gandalf gape at the undermining in his voice. He knew Bilbo hadn't meant it but it still hurt nonetheless.

"I find them all amazing wizards. And Radagast is the most interesting of them all. He is all here," He pointed to his chest, a tender smile on his face, then pointed to his head, "but not here, not at all."

"He's mad?" Asked Bilbo, making Gandalf burst into laughter.

"I don't think mad would be the right word here, my boy." Explained Gandalf. "Time does interesting things; some for the worse, some for the better. With Radagast I think it's a bit of both. He prefers the company of animals than that of humans."

_Time_. "How long do wizards live?"

"Long enough, my lad."

Bilbo pouted, as he began to count the generations that Gandalf had claimed to know of his family. And if his calculations were correct, which more likely were, Gandalf must be over four hundred years old. He frowned; hobbits truly had short lives compared to most. "Do wizards live as long as dwarves?"

Gandalf smiled and shook his head. "Not even close."

**#**

It had stopped raining a while ago and the sun was now at the highest spot in the sky, warming them up, slowly changing its course to give way to night, and the company made their next stop, by a destroyed shag, one that Gandalf was disapproving off camping in, but when he mentioned his opinion to Thorin, the other belitled the wizards concern and the camp was made, anyways, without concern for the wizards words, causing Gandalf to leave.

No one knew if he'd come back, but Bilbo wanted to hope; the wizard wouldn't abandon him here, right? Well, he dearly hoped so.

Bilbo stretched his limbs, tired of sitting and keeping a watch for Gandalf, silently groaning before he patted Myrtle quite sheepishly, before taking more confidence and embracing her, whispering things one would to a friend. One would feel stupid doing these sort of things, but Bilbo felt it was most natural, and heartwarming, especially when the pony seemed to react.

"Don't bother, they can't understand anything beyond dwarfish or basics." Thorin said, walking to Bilbo's side, who shrinked away from the king, worried that the king was going to quarrel with him for his previous insubordination. But to Bilbo's surprise, Thorin didn't seem to be intersted in him at all. With a strange, thick, rough set of sounds coming from his lips, the pony immediately straightened and stood firmly before the king. The king turned to the hobbit with a quite pleased expresssion.

"Even if you say that, I believe she understands me." Bilbo patted Myrtle's nose again, feeling her lean onto his hand, demanding for more.

"That's only what you wish to believe."

"Even if she can't actually understand me, I think she can _feel_ and interpret my words. I-its hard to explain."

Thorin stared at the hobbit intently. "I am beginning to believe you just came here to contradict me, Halfling."

"What? Not at all. It is a rather curious thing really." Bilbo took his eyes away from Myrtle to meet with Thorin, that unlike before his eyes were glazed with curiosity, and Bilbo was more than eager to ease that curiosity, as he was well acquainted with it and knew how annoying doubt could be. With a silent petition, he walked over to Thorin's pony, the dwarf following behind reluctantly and slowly, like thinking over the decision to stay or leave, and Bilbo was glad that Thorin decided to join him in the end. He first handed his hand for the pony to smell, then when given permission he touched it, running his fingers down the thick layer of hair.

Bilbo turned to Thorin and offered his hand to the king, invitingly. Thorin looked at Bilbo's hand then back to his face, Bilbo retreated his hand while the other took a step forward, standing close to the pony as he ordered. "Do it."

Bilbo enthusiastically did so, repeating what he had done with Myrtle, he scarefully leaned on the horse, turning his head so his ear was pressed against the horse and placed both hands on its neck for leverage, allowing him to feel the pony's heartbeat, steady breathing, warmth. He smiled at the feeling; it was much different than the one he'd gotten from Myrtle, this one was utterly proud, just like its master. "What's his name?"

"Theron." He gruffly said. "They are not pets."

"Indeed, they are our companions." Countered Bilbo softly as backed off and incited Thorin to repeat, which the other did awkwardly, as if afraid that his strength would break the pony or distrusting that the pony was going to attack him, or both of them at once. Then he finally concluded the act, and he remained like that for a few moments; listening, feeling, understanding. And Bilbo, forgetting who he was dealing with took the dwarf's hand and lead it up the pony's neck until it rested on its nose, and moved it around to mimic a stroke. "Tell him something nice."

"Nice?" Snarled the dwarf as if the word had a bitter taste to it.

"A compliment." Thorin gave it a thought and nodded in acknowledgement that he would give it a go—he'd already come this far, after all. He looked at Bilbo for guidance, unsure how to be...sweet. "Tell him…tell him how well he did today."

"But he didn't. His efficiency was lower than usual." At his words the pony whined, which made Bilbo chuckle, his point had been proved correct.

"Then something else. But don't lie, they know when you lie."

Thorin's brows furrowed in thought. Then spoke again, and even if the words weren't sweet, coming from Thorin such words as "Descent job," and "You're a worthy companion," sounded tender, and like Myrtle did, the pony purred and leaned into Thorin's touch.

Thorin's face softened and Bilbo could only stare in marvel the change in the ruthless warrior. He couldn't help but think that the dwarf was the most bitter and sorrowing sight, it was like watching a ghost, the remnants of a what little Thorin had besides hate, remorse and grudge, something beutiful. It fades quickly and Bilbo remains thirsty for more.

Thorin became aware that the hobbit was staring, and slowly pulled away, sheathing his hand out from Bilbo's smaller one until it hanged by his side. Their gazes immediately met and Bilbo offered him a smile, suddenly aware of what he'd done, turned his eyes away, fidgeting nervously.

"You're an odd creature, Halfling." He said. "Thank you."

Bilbo looked back to Thorin but the dwarf had left, Bilbo couldn't feel something inside him flutter, like butterflies, it was a wave of overwhelming joy, the sensation that he'd done something right.

"You're welcome." He responded so low that almost no one heard him.

Then, he heard someone cough and Bilbo slowly turned to make eye contact with Kili and Fili, who were both staring at him silently, one sitting on the rocks, head propped on his hand, while the eldest leaned on a tree branch lazily, when they realized Bilbo spotted them, they just wiggled their eyebrows.

"Nicely played, Mr. Baggins." Complimented Kili, a smirk on his lips.

"Look at him, smilling like a girl just given flowers by her merry lover!" Fili chuckled.

"I-I am not smilling." Snapped the hobbit, a hand raised to his lips to try and ease the muscles on his lips and push them downward, or at least hidethe un-checked smile from the king's nephews. Fili and Kili met each other's gaze and let a snort escape them before breaking into laughter, where the hobbit took his opportunity to leave.

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**What do you think? Like it, hate it? Let me know, so...review? :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for your reviews, they encourage me to write faster :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, its a bit longer than the last. **

Bilbo was still on the lookout for Gandalf, too worried to care about eating or anything else for that matter, eyes glued to the forest, searching relentlessly. Gloin and Oin had ben set to start a fire, but up until now they've been incapable of doing so which led the two brothers to argue and eventually fight, leaving them be consumed by the darkness of the night.

"Don't worry lad, he'll be coming back." Said Balin as he made himself comfortable by Bilbo, a hand patted his shoulder, reassuring him. Bilbo tried to believe him, which he believed for a split second, and then he returned to his internal dilemma. If he wasn't looking at the forest he was looking at Thorin and if he wasn't looking at Thorin, he was looking at the forest, he knew he should not be glaring at the king under the mountain, but he simply couldn't help it, it was as if someone grabbed his eyes and led him to his position. Luckily, it was night and no one would be able to spot anything that could bring Bilbo more trouble.

The hobbit had been determined to prove himself to be more than met the eye, but the tables swapped and it was Thorin who amazed him with every hour and day, leaving Bilbo unsatisfied with what he got. Thorin was like a half finished puzzle, and a finished puzzle is like a half finished meal, you aren't satisfied, and for the first time Bilbo felt greed.

Bilbo was determined to find out more. There was nothing wrong with finding out more about a male friend, was there? He just found Thorin to be interesting, as well as strong, fascinating and good-looking- Wait, excuse me?

Okay, maybe he was a bit more curious about Thorin than he believed.

"Halfling!" It was then that he realized that he had a foul mood dwarf in front of him. "Do yourself useful and hand these over to FIli and Kili, they are watching the horses." Huffed Dwalin, handing Bilbo two large plate, which the hobbit had some difficulty with, and the young hobbit did as he was asked, knowing the path well enough. Finding that Fili and Kili where nowhere to be found, until he heard whispering in the darkness of the woods.

"It's gotten longer." The first voice; Fili's voice Bilbo immediately recognized.

"It is a bit longer isn't?" Agreed the second voice; Kili.

"Did you do something to it?"

"Nay."

"Liar, you did."

"Is that jealousy I sense?"

Fili scoffed. "Longer or thicker, it matters not."

Bilbo could only let his mouth fall wide open, and wondered closer, trying to find the reason to this strange conversation. He made sure to be quiet as possible until he finally found the two brothers; Fili had his hands over the youngest's black hair, braiding it, while the other ran his fingers through his own sword.

"In the end, you still have no beard." Fili concluded with a smile and ran a hand over his own beard and breaded moustache. Kili snorted and resumed to tending to his sword while his brother gave up on braiding the brunette's wild hair. "And I still can't braid it."

"That's why you have Mr. Dwalin for." Teased the other slyly, earning a punch on the shoulder. Kili laughs and eventually Fili succumbs to laughter as well, then the two brothers stand and begin to count the ponies, their laughter immediately ceased. Then they just stood there, like stone.

The hobbit wanted to have a coronary at his misconception of the brothers' dialogue, and was quick to forget his odd thoughts. Bilbo sneaked closer to them finding the two unmistakable figures, he expected them to greet him with a bright smile, but as he came closer the two usually charming hobbits didn't even budge, their eyes narrowed to slits as they looked at the forest.

"What's the matter?"

"We were told to watch the ponies." Began Kili.

"But we are missing two of them." Ended Fili. "We had sixteen, now we have fourteen."

_I know how to count, thank you very much_. Bilbo slapped himself internally, now, don't be rude, Baggins are not rude. "That's not good." Is all Bilbo could think off, and when the dwarves stepped into the forest it became clear that one of the trees had been ripped of its roots and savagely thrown out of the way. "And that's definitely not good."

"We thought of going in to search them but it's too dark." Fili commented. Bilbo agreed, too dark. He wasn't one to fear the darkness, he would always enjoy the darkness that took over the Shire, but then again, this was not his safe Shire, it was a dangerous forest.

"We spotted a fire in the distance; we believe them to be human travelers." Explained Kili. "If we could get fire from them we might be able to search for them."

Bilbo was about to step back but the two brothers took him, each by an arm and lead him to the place where they'd spotted the faint fire, a bit further away from camp than Bilbo would have liked. When they were close enough to be illuminated by its light the three of them froze.

"Definitively not humans."Fili concluded.

Two huge trolls were sitting around a pot, cooking about, with two ponies trapped in a lame cage by their side, then with a horrid creaking sound the tree near them collapsed and made way for the third troll, carrying a pony under each arm. Bilbo gasped as he recognized Myrtle.

"He's got Myrtle!" He whispered desperately at the dwarves. "We have to save them."

The two brothers look at each other.

"Yes!"

"Yes! Yes we should. What about this? We keep watch here and make sure no other trolls come, while, you, you master hobbit, sneak by and free the ponies." Whispered Fili encouragingly, a fake smile on his face as they both took the plates away from Bilbo.

"I'm sure this sort of work is little compared to what a burglar of your caliber has done!" Added Kili.

"I don't think that's a good idea!" Hissed Bilbo in protest but as he finished his words he was successfully pushed at the edge of the trolls camp, making the trolls raise their heads in suspicion and look, making Bilbo freeze in place, when the three settled down he looked over his shoulder to talk his way out of the task but the brothers were no longer there.

"Blasted dwarves!" Mumbled Bilbo under his breath as he prepared to make his way back to camp, but for some reason his feet wouldn't move.

He was free to return and warn the others. There would be time. Or was there? The talk of the trolls in deciding how to eat the ponies made his stomach weak, what if back up would arrive too late? The thought made him sick, but then his logical side came over; _if you're caught, you'll be their lunch. It's not worth the risk. Make the logical choice, Bilbo; you're a hobbit not a burglar._

_But can you really do nothing? You can help. Prove your worth. What would the others think if you walk away? What would Thorin say? _

Bilbo felt his limbs shake, his throat tighten and breath hitch and with one step he took his decision. There was a slim chance, but it was a chance nonetheless.

The trolls seemed unaware of his presence for most of the time, but that didn't give Bilbo comfort nor reason to lower his guard as he finally stepped into the pony cage, his figure visible in the fire, he took a deep breath and walked over to the ponies, his small fingers trying to undo the knot that kept the cage together.

He spots a small knife—a sword for him— hanging loose on one of the trolls, and with much more carefulness he crawled towards him, trying to take the pocket knife out without one of them noticing him, then he finally managed to unhook the object and was ready to leave when a huge hand caught him and pulled him high in the air.

Bilbo dangled in the air as three pairs of yellow eyes on him. "Blimey! Look what I've caught!"

"It looks tasty. What is it?"

"A rabbit?"

"No you idiot, it obviously is a weasel!"

"An oversized weasel?"

Bilbo was frozen in horror, words incapable of forming in his trembling lips.

"What are you?"

"I'm a b-b-burgla—hobbit!" He didn't know why he'd answered, perhaps he held some faint hope that the trolls would let him go, or perhaps be repulsed.

"Burgle-hobbit? What is a burgle-hobbit?"

"It doesn't matter what it is, it looks tasty!"

"No! Wait, wait!" Yelped Bilbo, wailing his arms in desperation, mind rushing with several things at once, and beyond his fear and horror, there was one feeling that prevailed in him, besides fearing death and what lied beyond, Bilbo feared what would become of him, his memory, his name, his reputation.

Maybe it was the confusion formed by pain, or petty fear but deep down, deep, deep down, he wondered if he was going to be missed, if the dwarves were going to miss him. If Thorin was… He scoffed, as if Thorin would ever hold him in such high regard.

Bilbo in his dizziness saw a dwarf come before the three trolls, a man of long brown hair and imposing figure, of royal blood and one…who resembled much to his uncle. Young, brave Kili stood before the three tolls, his sword high in hand and determination gleaming in his eyes as he demanded the hobbit, which the trolls threw the mildly confused hobbit over to him.

"Drop him!"

What came next was far too quickly for Bilbo to get a good hold of what was going on; screams of war, of pain and battle raged around him, sword and axes clashed against flesh, and the image of the thirteen dwarves fighting against the three trolls came clear.

Even if the dwarves had the upper hand there were a few occasions that some would have been severely wounded if it weren't for their loyal companions, for example; Fili would have been crushed by one of the stumbling trolls if it hadn't been for Dwalin pulling him out of danger, or Bifur having his arms pulled off their sockets if not so for Bofur aiding, or Ori having his head crushed like a watermelon if not for Thorin jumping for the rescue.

_Ahh, Thorin_. Bilbo wouldn't admit it to himself, at least for the moment, or any other, but the hobbit felt himself fascinated with the dwarf king in more ways than one. How his hair winded with every move or stroke, how his chest heaved by his erratic breathing and how the gruffness in his voice increased when he was pumped with adrenaline.

He was woken up from his momentary day dream by the loud neighing of the trapped ponies, which Bilbo quickly returned to his original task at hand; freeing them, which he succeeded and watch them gallop for their freedom. Now, they would just have to run away from the trolls, and everything would return to normal.

That is, until he was snatched up by a troll, and was used against the company, ready to be ripped apart.

Bilbo flushed as he hung before his companions, he was embarrassed and humiliated beyond belief, and it could only increase when he saw the disapproving faces of Dwalin and Gloin, he couldn't even dare to imagine Thorin's, so he decided to keep his focus on the floor, where the swords where thrown before him, submitting to the trolls demands.

The shock made him raise his face and make eye contact with Thorin, where he was shocked to find that there was no anger in Thorin's gaze, just simple frustration and…worry?!

Whatever Bilbo had seen it was soon hidden from him when the trolls shoved the dwarves into sacks, taking Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Fili, Ori, Dori and Nori into a tree trunk just above the fire and began to cook them. Dwalin cussed in anger, while Bofur tried to hold back his whimpers of pain, and Bifur tried to shake himself out of the bonds and Kili just cried out for his brother that was also following behind Dwalin's example.

The trolls spoke once again to each other, demanding for one of them to hurry up on the cooking, deciding how many dwarves they could manage to eat before their time was up….._Time_. Bilbo remembered reading that trolls turned to stone if daylight reached them, which was the main reason why they remained in the darkest areas of middle earth.

Bilbo looked at the sky, and he felt his heart jump in content when he acknowledged that it would only be a few minutes until breaking dawn.

Plainly, Bilbo hopped to his feet and claimed to know how to cook dwarves, one was stupid enough to listen, another was curious, but the last was suspicious and the more time he tried to waste the stronger their suspicion became, especially when the dwarves claimed not to be infected and then moments later claimed to be full with parasites as big as their arms.

"He believes us to be fools!" Growled Tom. "Let's cook him up first!"

"No, let me listen to what the burgle-hobbit has to say." Bert argued.

"So you can fall for his trickery even further?" Growled Tom.

"I am not stupid."

"No, stupidity is beyond what describes you. Birdbrain."

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did!

"Moron."

"You did it again!"

"That wasn't me!"

"Fool."

"Yes it was!"

A furious Bert stomped towards Tom, his intent evident as he clashed against the other massive creature and entered into struggle, soon joined by William who tried to break apart only to have a right hook hit him square in the jaw. The trolls argued and fought and failed to see the sun rise over the hills and fall before them, and as soon as the rays touched them, they began to turn to stone. The dwarves looked from the troll statues to each other, bewilderment and inquiry burning in their eyes. What had just happened?

After their transformation a familiar figure appeared, one that Bilbo couldn't be more grateful to see. "Gandalf!"

The wizard smiles at them before he helps them out of the sacks and bounds, explaining that it was his doing that the trolls started their infighting.

Thorin, the first dwarf to be attended stood and left the dwarf company to meet with Gandalf, paying little to no attention to Bilbo who watched him leave with a delusional expression. He stares and stares at Thorin and not once does the king turn to see him, and the hobbit can't help to sigh and fix a pout on his face.

He was center of attention for a few moments as some dwarves complimented him and even some of those who had been more reluctant in the beginning started showing him some acknowledgement, Bilbo knew he shouldn't be so greedy, but for some reason this wasn't enough, to him, there was only one dwarf that proving himself was worth it.

"Are you alright?" Asked Bofur, helping Bilbo clean the dirt off his clothing with pats and slaps.

Bilbo didn't know how to answer to such question, especially since Bofur was obviously more wounded than he was. His usually well cared for moustache and hair blunt by the fire heat and there was some dirt scattered over his face, which Bilbo had the urge to wipe off with a piece of clothing. Which Bilbo did in the end, earning him a strange chuckle from Bofur, then the enthusiastic dwarf tried to break Bilbo's sour mood with humor, which he partially succeeded.

Then Gandalf called Bilbo over.

"I thought you'd left us."

Gandalf scoffed as if the hobbit had said the most irrelevant thing. "Fool of a Took. I would never leave you, Bilbo."

"Glad to hear it, I worried for a bit." Smiled Bilbo before another thought made itself heard. "I thought trolls kept far from these lands...What were they doing here?

"The trolls can only travel by night time, they must have had a cave nearby." Gandalf explained as he kept on wondering on the woods, and the young hobbit took little to understand what Gandalf was inciting, and in case he didn't understand the wizard added, "Search for that cave, Bilbo."

Bilbo had a hard time searching, without getting too far from the rest, he searched and searched to no avail, he was a bit scared of going deeper into the forest, what something would snatch him away without the other's knowing. He felt like a coward but he couldn't help to feel scared. Never had he felt so weak and fragile. Never before had he felt his safety compromised.

Frustration hits him when the cave was finally found by Gandalf himself, therefore he headed towards Fili and Kili who were trying to catch the unnerved ponies.

Myrtle was not amongst any of the ones present. She was gone, long gone. He knew he shouldn't feel sad, Myrtle might as well find a better life than she did in this life, yet inside him his selfish desire wanted her by him.

He felt strange. Empty. A sensation of loss.

Thorin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Bofur and Gandalf left the troll cave, which to Bilbo had smelled like rotten cheese and wisely chose not to go inside, and was mildly surprised to have Gandalf hand him over a weapon. He'd never used a weapon before, yet alone know how to use it….or to be able to take a life with it.

Some dwarves made a petty remark of its size, nicknaming it the 'letter opener', to Bilbo's dislike, even Thorin took amusement in it, and Bilbo then decided to take action, walking up towards the king and speak only to find himself interrupted by Radagast's arrival and then after the attack of the wargs and orcs.

Bilbo had never ran so much in his life, the lack of sleep was taking a great effect on the dwarves' and hobbit's efficiency, and Bilbo was absolutely terrified that he'd faint. Spots of white and black pampered his view for most of the time, and if not for Bofur's tight grasp on him, he was certain he would have lost his way.

"Fili, don't!" Hissed a voice, one that Bilbo recognized as Dwalin as they all glued to the stone wall, trying to silence their heavy panting and cool their heated, sweaty bodies. Bilbo could hear his heart drumming like mad in his chest, and Bilbo tried not to choke when he attempted to bring a steady rhythm to his breathing.

"Easy, there lad." Whispered Bofur, eyes wide as plates as they heard large bangs scrape the top of the stone they had hidden in. Bilbo heard it too and tightened his jaw muscles as he saw Thorin incite Kili to attack, which the young dwarf stood fearless in front of the warg and master and shot it down, leaving them to be silence by Dwalin, Bifur and Thorin.

But the creature made certain to make its last breaths heard, letting out the most horrid sound, alerting all of its comrades and soon have them on their tails. Bofur left Bilbo's side to take his, as Bifur seemed to be preparing to confront the enemy on his own regardless of the chances, which to all was pure madness—they were clearly outnumbered, and if they stayed here they would certainly be caught and slaughtered.

They ran and ran, sweat running freely down their faces and fatigue increasing with every move, but none dared to stop, the sound of wargs and orcs was enough to have adrenaline coarse through their veins.

Soon they were surrounded, and the abrupt stop made Bilbo suddenly loose conception of his surroundings and sanity and collapsed. The world span around him, his sight lingered between blinding light and the darkest abyss, only voices allowed him to make an image of what was happening.

"Where's Gandalf?!" Shouted Kili, confused and slightly scared by the situation.

"He's abandoned us!" Growled Dwalin, willing to judge far too easily.

"Stand your ground!" Shouted Thorin as always never losing his composure as a leader, never showing fear.

Bilbo didn't know if he had been spotted or not, and tried to make his situation known, but his lips wouldn't move and no words came out.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf! Help! Bilbo screamed in his head. But only a faint mumble left his lips.

"Into the cave, now!" Ordered Thorin.

No! Don't leave me! Bilbo tried to move, but he'd lost control of everything in his body, tormented to be trapped in it.

The sound of running became eminent to him, the sound of two legs and that of four and Bilbo could only dread which one was to reach him first. Was it Bofur? Or Kili? Or Fili? Maybe Nori? Or Dori? Hopefully it wasn't Bifur trying to have a straight on battle with the enemy.

"Kili!" Shouted Thorin, his voice closer than it had been moments ago, and soon he felt a pair of gruff, rough hands fondle him, trying to carry him, which they managed to easily lift the hobbit, who was leveraged by the two arms and the wide chest of his savior, his pants brushing the hobbit's forehead.

"Watch his back, lad!" Screamed Dwalin not far, followed by the sound of air being cut through. "Shoot! Shoot!"

Bilbo managed to groan and open his eyes slightly, but enough to see who was the one carrying him, and if he hadn't just fainted, he might as well just faint again, for it was Thorin carrying him away from danger, a pack of wargs close on his tail, their vicious intent eminent, set back by a set of deadly arrows that came from the well-known dwarf archer.

With that Thorin threw himself into the cave's mouth, rashly sliding down its path yet at the same time easing Bilbo's fall with his own body—if it had been on purpose or not, Bilbo didn't know, with Thorin one could never tell sentiment apart from duty.

It was upon the touch of Gandalf that Bilbo was able to regain some of his strength and stand, still a bit wobbly and rough around the edges but better than he had been mere moments ago. However Bilbo wished nothing more than to be sucked into the very depths of Mordor and disappear, when was he going to stop being a liability to others?

Bilbo stopped Thorin from following the other dwarves deep into the caves, earning a sharp glare from the other which he understood as; speak fast. Bilbo was slightly taken back by their closeness, his fingers wishing to venture further, his eyes fluttering over Thorin's features before stopping on his thin lips, hidden behind his beard and moustache, lips that were pursed into a painfully straight line.

Bilbo concluded to himself that Thorin indeed looked handsomest with a smile on his face. But Thorin spared no free smiles.

"Thorin…"Dared Bilbo to mutter, so quietly it barely made it beyond a whisper, feeling his body shift uncomfortably Thorn's penetrating gaze. "I-I-I—"He internally cursed, why was it so difficult to speak? He licked his dried, broken lips and made a huge effort to look into Thorin's blue eyes. "Thank you, I am aware that my safety has compromised you own, as thankful as I am… I …ask you to forgive my incompetence. If it happens again, you are... free to send me away."

With that said Bilbo took his leave, believing that his heart might come gushing out his throat or his stomach might as likely explode. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

**I had fun writing this chapter though I had to cut it or else it'd been too long, meaning that I already have the following chapter written out, but first I'd love to hear your thoughts about this one :) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again, I would apologize for my ridiculously late updating, but then again a wizard is never late or too early ;) Nonetheless, thank you all for being so patient and supportive of me. Anyways, I read in one of the reviews they'd like to see Thorin's point of view, and as I liked the suggestion I took it up, so here it is, its pretty short, but I hope you enjoy this chapter and do leave your thoughts about it! I always enjoy reading your opinions :)**

* * *

Patience. It is an interesting concept, and one Thorin vastly lacked. Stubbornness, on the other hand, was something he had in large quantities, like any other proud dwarf.

But patience…hardly any dwarves had it. Thorin was proud to say that he knew one who had it, Fili may have his moments, but if there was anything that could describe the boy, Thorin would call him patient, and he was hopeful for his nephew's rule in future after he perished.

Yes, that's how it would have been. Reclaim Erebor, or die trying. Thorin hadn't had much hope for a future for himself. For his people? Plenty, but not for himself. Why should he? His father and mother were dead, so was his brother, and to his sister he was but a reminder of what she'd lost.

He remembers her grief so clearly, its so bittersweet it still hurts. Thorin would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but he'd shed more tears in the silence of the dark than one could possibly be able to, but it was in the comfort of solitude that he found a resolve to his broken soul.

He'd take back Erebor, whatever its cost.

The Shire was not any more different than the human lands he'd witnessed, and was slightly revolted with its habitants, all giving him dirty looks as he made his way through the green lands. How dare they lay eyes upon him as if he were a mere scum?!

He was King of the mountain, king of Erebor, and son of Thrain!

He questioned the validity of the infamous Bilbo Baggins. Never had the Halflings ever seem to be useful other than for eating, and to say he was skeptical was an utter understatement. Thoughts of what could possibly go wrong swarmed his mind, and little did his harsh opinion change when he talked to the Halfling.

Useless…

That's what he'd thought.

"You have heavy bags under your eyes."

His eyes do not move to look at the Halfling, his eyes vaguely focusing on the Shire. But that did not falter the hobbit's will or curiosity, who cleared his throat and spoke higher. "Do you not sleep well?"

"I don't like sleeping." Snapped Thorin, his mind questioning why nobody had pulled the hobbit away from his side, then he remembered that most had left to the Inn or were packing whatever food the hobbit had left—which dare he say, was a surprising amount of food for one small Halfling to have.

"I've heard nightmares are horrid." Spoke the Halfling casually. Something in Thorin clicked.

_He couldn't be possibly be suggesting…_

The leader of the company had had enough, and Thorin turned his head ever so slowly, to meet Bilbo's curious gaze, utterly annoyed by the others relentlessness. "I _don't_ have nightmares, Halfling."

"I never said you did." Bilbo answered with a dry, sheepish smile. But an honest one. Honesty, now there was something he hadn't seen in a while, outside from the company. "Hopefully, they will be soon gone."

"They will never be gone." Muttered Thorin. His voice deepened, full of remorse, guilt and regret.

"Well, there's nothing a good pack of weed and tea fail to comfort." Added Bilbo in a matter of fact manner, making the wizard choke on his pipe, he knew Bilbo had good intentions, but his comment might not have the same effect on the king. And so he was yet again correct as Thorin pursed his lips into the thinnest, straightest line. Patience, a part of his mind whispered.

"Are you jesting with me_, Halfling_?" He growled threatening, making the hobbit finally take a few steps back in fear.

"Me? No! No, no, no!" Replied the other, wailing his arms before him and his eyebrows furrowing together, and Thorin quickly acknowledged his honesty, and for a moment the king of the mountain was taken aback by Bilbo's persona. The hobbit was being painfully nice, unlike many of his kin, to the point it was unbearable, and here Thorin was, treating Bilbo like garbage.

Thorin internally sighed. There was no need to be rude to the hobbit, in the end, he would not come along.

"Oh would you look at the time." Commented Bilbo, looking out the door, which Thorin followed his gaze to look at the pitch darkness. "I suppose I'd better not keep you any longer, you do have a long quest before you."

"Indeed." Part of him was grateful, yet another…

"Then I guess this is goodbye. Well then, it was a pleasure meeting you, Thorin Oakenshield, may you be victorious in your quest."

Thorin watched the hobbit leave the room.

_Useless_…he thought. Little had his opinion of the hobbits use changed but…but then why did he want Bilbo to come along?

**OoooOoooO**

They had endured so much considering of how little time had passed, and no matter how many times Thorin had tried to keep the hobbit out of his mind he had utterly failed to do so. He didn't find him fascinating, beautiful or anything outstandingly in that matter, but that just made it harder for him to understand, why did he enjoy the hobbit's company so much?

He reached out for it whenever the opportunity offered itself.

He hated it…this feeling of absolutely obliviousness. Why? Why? When their gazes met….the strangest emotions surged. He didn't know if they were good or bad, he just knew they were ambiguous as the state of Erebor.

And the face Bilbo made when they reached Rivendell ignited something in him he could not understand or describe. It was something similar to hate, vaguely similar, not as strong, not as wretched. But an acute burning, a little box in the back of his head, whispered the darkest and foulest things.

'Bilbo Baggins would side with the elves rather than us!'

'Traitor!'

So many things wretched in his mind, so mild and evil it seemed impossible that Bilbo was the origin of such feelings. Or was he really? His hate for elves had mingled so deep into his persona that it eventually became part of him.

Elves, they had betrayed his father, his grandfather and his people, they would surely turn on him, Bilbo would surely turn his back on him. He was certain!

He didn't understand why he cared so much about Bilbo's allegiance; he was no great swordsman, or burglar for that matter, or archer, or scoundrel…he was nothing really, but then again Bilbo was not entirely lacking of courage, bravery or willingness.

Bilbo Baggins was something else.

**OooOooO**

"Say Mr. Baggins, what is it about the elves you find so fascinating?" Asked Fili with curiosity, making Bilbo the center of attention, who had been sitting by Balin eating his food silently, until Fili disturbed him with the question; a question he was eager to give an answer to.

"What isn't there to like about them?" Retorted Bilbo. "Everything about them is sublime."

"Specify, Halfling." Thorin challenged.

"Heh, maybe their alikeness in their ridiculous, pointy ears!" Commented Dwalin, taking a savage bite of the sausage, poking Fili with his elbow, the blond shyly smiling at his elder before he focused on the hobbit once again.

Bilbo frowned and can't help to reach over to feel his own ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"There are several things about elves that make them fascinating, and their ears have nothing to do with it!" Pointed out Bilbo in a matter of fact manner, while the dwarves looked at each other in confusion—whatever Bilbo saw in elves was beyond their grasp, therefore, Bilbo expanded. "They are beautiful, gentle, soft, sweet and very, very, very well-mannered."

"You mean they are a bunch of wussies." Gloin pointed out mockingly. "They aren't strong or powerful like us!"

"Their food is a joke, no wonder they are so skinny. I could break their little figure with two of my fingers." Said Dwalin, snapping his fingers, and Bilbo believed him. Nothing could stand a chance to Dwalin, the man was an absolute brute.

"I believe their food to be quite balanced." Defended Bilbo and took another mushroom into his mouth, humming out in pleasure as well as enjoying the disturbed expression on the dwarves—it was as if he was eating the most disgusting thing in the world. "It's healthy, you all should learn the definition of the word…especially you Bombur."

Bombur stopped eating to process Bilbo's statement, but then shrugged and kept on eating with joy.

"There's nothing wrong with being oversized, master hobbit."Ori stepped in and Bilbo immediately stopped eating and his eyes shot open. He blinked once, twice, and then tilted his head down to look at his body, then back up to Ori and blushed in embarrassment.

"Oversized? Are you calling me _fat_?"

The dwarves laugh again, making Bilbo's blush only deepen. He was aware he'd gained a few pounds in the good life at Bag End, but he didn't think it was that bad. He cleared his throat. "Either way, I wonder if its their eating habbits that help them reach such height. They're even taller than humans, or so Gandalf has told me."

"Yes, I agree, they're abnormally tall, are they compensating for something?" Dwalin snorted, pulling his hand up and wiggling his little finger, making the company burst into laughter. "Oh! Oh! I wouldn't be surprised if they did, they all look like women! Poor beardless lads! Have they no shame?"

Bilbo frowned and brushed a hand over his chin. He couldn't remember if any sort of facial hair had sprouted as of late, then again, he couldn't remember any hobbit having more hair than they did in their lower regions, especially their feet. Did that count? He'd have to ask Balin afterwards, in private.

"Maybe that's what the hobbit likes; Feminine men." Adds Gloin.

Bilbo had to spit out everything that was in his mouth, there was no helping it, that statement was enough to give any hobbit a heart attack.

"Oh, he reacts! So it is indeed true!" Laughed Fili, while Balin patted Bilbo's back, comforting the choking hobbit.

"I _do not_ like feminine men!"

"Oh, so manly men then?" Ventured Kili, thick eyebrow arched, joined by his brother who tweaked his brows playfully.

"No!" Bilbo was less than comfortable talking about this matter. Yes, he'd been with women, he liked them, but men... didn't seem all that bad-Oh, shut it Took! What was there about men that he could possibly find appealing? They are sweaty, hairy, muscular, tough... He felt like dying there and then when he realized he'd spoken his mind. "Elven women and men are beautiful, I just appreciate what both genders offer." Bilbo facepalmed. Just shut up, Bilbo, shut up. "I do not like feminine or hairy men, I just like elves, and that's the end of this conversation!" Bilbo soon changed the subject. "How _are _your _women _like?"

"Ha! All dwarf women look like men." Chortles Kili. "I wouldn't be surprised if they grew a beard any time soon!" Gaining a glare from his uncle that obviously translated into; _Watch it, your mother's a dwarf._

"You're just jealous, my little Kili, that you have no beard." Teased Fili, who showed off his beard like a treasured price, making Kili hunch slightly before he came up with a smart remark.

"I'm still the handsomest one between the two of us, brother." He smiled wickedly, the dwarves whistling and taunting at the youngest's bold response, and Fili pointed at him with a playful grin.

"True that! Soon we won't be fighting orcs, but women demanding your hand in marriage."

Bilbo laughed along with the company as the dwarves began joking around with the other members, retelling stories from their youth, forgetting the previous matter, talking about their mothers and their memories of a younger Thorin, a man that remained as the one much like today, but—in the words of Kili—much more youthful and handsomer, making Bilbo conclude that Thorin's crankiness was not a thing of age. Which made another question pop up, how old was Thorin? Thorin was said to be old, but olthe definition of 'old' may not be the same to dwarves as if was to hobbits.

"You hold elves in high regard, Halfling." Bilbo was slightly startled by the close proximity of the dwarf king, but quickly composed himself. "You don't seem to appreciate us in the same manner."

"I just happen to like the elves more than your kin." Bilbo had to add more, if he'd left it like that Thorin would have certainly beheaded him.

"What?" He hissed.

"I didn't mean to sound rude! But where I come from, manners and gentleness are highly expected from one, and it's obvious that our cultures are extremely different. You head bang, while we shake hands, you burp while we compliment, and you're inconsiderate of many, while we have to consider everyone. The elven culture and our own is closer than that of dwarves." Thorin crossed his arms, and nodded as if taking note of some valid, important information. Bilbo tapped his fingers and suddenly he felt something hurt, nostalgia? He sighed, a saddened glance fixing on his face, and looked at the night sky. "It's not that I dislike dwarves, no, not at all! It's just that...I suppose I miss being treated like a respectable gentleman rather than a useless burglar."

"I didn't know our treatment upsets you."

"Not upsetting, more like, unsettling." Explained Biblo, looking back down to Thorin, spotting something unfamiliar in the hardened dwarf. "It reminds me that I'm far from home." Bifur offered him a drink, Bilbo took it, then moved to give another to Thorin, who rejected it, and instead handed it over to Nori, who was more than grateful for it. "But I guess I'm being unfair, my king. You've been away from your home far longer than I have. I'm sure you must miss it as much as I miss mine." He offers the king a shy, compassionate smile then quickly turned his gaze away, absolutely missing the relaxation of Thorin's face muscles to reveal a little smile, barely visible under his beard.

The dwarves cheer for something Bilbo didn't quite catch and drink, most of them had their drinks spill from the side of their lips, spilling over their coats and chest. They remove the cups, and as soon as they did there was a symphony of burps.

"Bah! This ale tastes like orc piss!" Growled Dwalin.

"How would you know what orc piss tastes like, aye?" Asked Oin, appareantly innocently but everyone could see the evil in his eyes.

"Yeh, how do you know?" Ventured Bofur, making some of the dwarves stare intently at the warrior, try to push him for an answer. Bilfur said something in dwarfish and all laughed, except Dwalin and of course, Thorin, who had the strongest poker face of them all.

"What did he say?" Asked Bilbo to Balin, who shook his head in disbelief yet couldn't contain a smile.

"Obscenities, my young lad."

Bilbo turned to Thorin and pointed at Bifur as if making an example of his previous point. "See what I'm talking about?"

"I would believe you hobbits closer in our mannerism than that of elves." Argued Thorin. Making conversation between them rise once again, which Bilbo found to be quite pleasant, unlike what he had believed days before, which had been the primary reasons why he'd kept out of Thorin's way most of the time.

"Some would say we have a little bit of all. Though I would say that we hobbits do is keep out of trouble, live comfortable lives and ignore the problems of the world."

"So you live in ignorance?" Thorin concluded bluntly.

"I wouldn't put it in such term, but to answer your question, yes, we keep to ourselves most of the time." Except the Took's, their problem was poking their nose in anythiing that they saw. Bilbo had part of it, but could keep his curiosity in a leash.

"So you've never been outside of your…Shire, before?"

Bilbo shook his head. "This is my first adventure, it is frightening as well as exciting experience, nonetheless, I'm glad I took this opportunity. I would have no other company other than the one I have now." He took another sip of his drink, and most of the dwarves burped in contentment, making Bilbo wince. "Though I wouldn't mind a change in manners."

"Keep dreaming, lad. That'll never happen with this lot." Informed Balin with a wink. Bilbo sighed. Dwarves had to be known for something, besides their lack of wits. Well, Thorin and Balin were exceptions, likeable exceptions. But he knew he was still not respected by either, to them he simply was a liability, if not a fool, and he intended to proove them otherwise, especially Thorin.


	5. Chapter 5

**I apologize beforehand for any mistakes in my grammar and spelling, hope you enjoy it. Shoo! Go read now :P**

They made a stop by a river, the company rested under the shadow of the trees. Bofur and Bilbo were smocking together, speaking about the Shire and chatting about the view, about Rivendel, and about Gandalf catching up to them. Bilbo liked Bofur, seemed to be one of the few dwarves that liked him back and did not mock him, unlike Dwalin—speaking of which, had turned a lot nicer after Fili had a conversation with him.

It had been a tiring walk, which made Bilbo miss the ponies even further, and mourn their loss, especially Myrtle, he'd grown rather attached to the hairy animal, and even if he was still surrounded by hairy creatures, he couldn't help staring at the apple in his hand, recalling the time he'd fed her, just before the troll attack. Uncertainty was one of the worst things Bilbo could feel; was she dead? Was she alive? Where was she? Was she safe?

Back in the Shire, nothing of his belongings had gotten lost, everything was in place, just like it was meant to be. Order. Here, it was chaos. He learned he should value what he had, for when they got lost you wouldn't be able to get them back, no matter how wanted or desired they were. He'd never had a pet, or a real friend, and Myrtle had been the first in both.

He decided not to think further on Myrtle and decided to examine his fellow companions; Dwarves, they were all painfully blunt and honest. If they didn't like you they would spit it in your face, and if they did...well, they..._head butt you_? Bilbo chuckled to himself as he imagined himself being head butted by Dwalin.

In all seriousness, dwarven friendship was a thick bond, and he could see it clearly within the company; years and years of friendship, trust and love. Not easily earned might he add. Bilbo wanted to be part of that. But as mentioned before, it would not be easily earned, and he was more than certain that neither of the dwarves were going to make it easier for him. If only Gandalf were here to fill him in about dwarven culture, he wouldn't be troubled by so many questions.

He breathed out loudly, fixed his position by the tree so he was more comfortable and closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of the wind and water flowing by, the smell of grass, and the touch shadows, protecting him from the burning sunlight.

He may not miss its habitants, but Bilbo missed the comfort of the Shire.

In the mist of his thoughts, he suddenly heard some rustling headed his way and before he could identify its causer he had a something shoved to his face. He blinked several times before he realized what they were; flowers. And if that wasn't odd enough, Thorin was the one holding them.

"Thorin, what on earth are you doing?"

"I'm handing you flowers, worthless hobbit." He said bluntly. "Well, are you going to take them or not?"

"Why are you giving me—"He asked, slowly taking the stems but before he could finish talking Thorin had left his side. "—flowers?"

Bilbo's mind tried to catch a hold of what just happened, and just as he was, the king's nephews came towards him, huge grins plastered over their faces.

"Nice flowers." Woos Fili.

"Yes, very nice, very nice indeed, they complement your hair nicely, Mr. Baggins." Adds Kili, his grin growing wider and wider. Bilbo narrowed his eyes, something was definitely up.

"Yes, I think they're quite lovely. In my home I used to have a garden filled with flowers of all kind of colors and scents." Commented Bilbo, before he took a deep breath. "They smell just as good too!" He said gleefully, making both brothers glance at each other and chuckle, and Bilbo didn't miss the mischief in the eyes. "Did... Thorin give you flowers too?"

"No." Both answer with a loud snort. "Why should he?"

"I don't know. He just handed me these just now."

"I'm sure Thorin had fun picking them." Fili snorted, and Bilbo had to admit, Thorin would have certainly looked silly picking up flowers, not something a merciless warrior would do, at least not in their right mind; something was happening to him. AS if reading his mind, Kili spoke again.

"Oh, he sure is acting a bit more cheery, hasn't he?" Kili mentioned. "I would even say more like a tree-hugging elf than the dwarf he is."

"Is he alright?" Asked the young hobbit, looking from one dwarf to the other, before searching for Thorin, who was at the top of a cliff, talking with Balin, and he can't help but admire him—even from afar he looked respectable, divine and handsome. Wait, what? Get a hold of yourself, Bilbo Baggins! You are a Baggins, not a Took! Baggins don't peek around in curiosity!

"I think he's gone mad."

"What?" Blurted out Bilbo.

"Mad with love." Sang Fili, however, his remark did go unnoticed by Bilbo who now started to fear the sanity of their leader. If his nephews said something was wrong with Thorin, then surely there was no denying their good judgment, they knew him best after all. However, the high pitched, uncontrollable laughter of the brothers made him further confused, if possible.

"I don't understand what you are finding so hilarious." Commented Bilbo. Where they toying with him again? "Is there something I should know?"

"By my beard, no, not at all! Nothing!" Gasped Fili, unable to contain his childish giggles.

"What made you believe that, Mr. Baggins?" Teased Kili. He grabbed one of the flowers and placed it over Bilbo's ear. "Well, well, well, you do look quite lovely there, master hobbit. Thorin chose well."

"I quite agree there, Kili. Lovely is indeed the right word here." Added Fili, placing a hand over his chin thoughtfully as if admiring a painting. Bilbo furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, as the two shared another chuckle and left, leaving Bilbo boring holes on their backs.

"Dwarves." He grunted, pulling the flower out of his ear roughly. He looked at it quite intently, as if confirming it was real. It had been a long time since anybody had given hm a gift, or anything for that matter, and someone other than his mother or father. He discretely looked at his surroundings, making sure no one was watching, before he hunched down and caressed the flower with a foolish smile on his face.

He indeed liked the flower Thorin gave him.

**#**

Gandalf still hadn't caught up to them, and Bilbo had begun to worry. Where was Gandalf? Had he gotten lost? At these thoughts he bickered to himself, nonsense. Gandalf was a great wizard, he would catch up to them eventually. He hated to admit it, but he missed the gray wizard. Talking about missing people, he hadn't seen Thorin for a while now.

"Come on lad, if you don't eat you'll soon be bones like those elves of yours." Joked Balin, taking his plate and headed over to the center of the camp, where everyone had gathered.

"Well, it would be a change for the best then, as you all obviously like pointing out my fatness."

Balin gave a chortle and mumbled to himself in disbelief. "_Fatness_?!"

Bilbo took out his bowl and headed over to Bombur and Bofur, who had dinner ready and serving. Bilbo tried not to look too pleased as he smelled the delicious food, drooling by simple imagination of what it would taste like.

Then his day dreaming was shattered by an order. Given by the one person who actually had that right. "Halfling, come here."

Bilbo whined, he was two turns from getting his food. Couldn't Thorin wait? And from the sound of it, he couldn't. So Bilbo walked his way over to the leader of the company, a bit too fast, but then again, he wanted to be done with whatever Thorin wanted and eat. "Yes?"

His eyes wandered Thorin's figure, spotting that the older dwarf was in a strange position; he had one arm hidden behind his back, holding something. The hobbit didn't have to wonder for long as Thorin himself answered his question.

"Here." He handed over a plate to Bilbo, and the poor hobbit tried to contain a whimper of disgust as he smelled it. What on earth was this? He looked from the plate to Thorin in confusion. What on bloody earth did Thorin want him to do with it? Destroy it with fire? Throw it down the river? Poison Bombur?

"Eat." Instructed the dwarf impatiently, like a child waiting for his parent to open his present. Bilbo felt his jaw fall, his mouth forming a huge 'O'.

He couldn't be serious, could he? Bilbo explored the other's expression, trying to find a hint of joke in them, but the worst thing was, there wasn't any. Thorin was dead serious, like always. Bilbo swallowed the knot in his throat, and stared at the plate for what felt like ages, until he did as he was told, and forced himself to swallow the poorly cooked food.

"Well?" Asked Thorin eagerly, and Bilbo could have sworn to see a little smile on his lips and glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Did you cook this, my lord?" Thorin nodded proudly. Bilbo shivered, thank god Bombur and Bolfur were in charge of the company's eating arrangements, if it were in Thorin's hands they would all have starved. "'Tis…. great."

It was obvious Thorin had put great effort into this…monstrosity, and Bilbo didn't know if to be grateful for the effort or secretly curse him for the coming stomach ache. In the end, he decided he didn't want to hurt the dwarf's feelings. Nonetheless, Bilbo couldn't help to think that this plate reminded him of something, somehow. What it was he couldn't quite grasp it at the moment.

"Good. I'm pleased you like it." He said, he turned to take his leave and Bilbo took his opportunity to quickly throw some of the rubbish food on the nearest bush, but then Thorin turned and Bilbo froze in horror.

"I demand your assistance tomorrow morning." Announced the dwarf, seemingly unaware of Bilbo's mischief.

"Uuh, me?"

"Yes, you, hobbit."

"How could I assist you exactly?" Bilbo could hardly imagine what Thorin wanted with him, of all people.

"You shall see tomorrow, for now, eat, we have a long journey and I will not see you starve."

Bilbo cursed inwardly as he continues to swallow Thorin's horrendous cooking, concentrating on not making a face. Ignoring the snickers his dwarven companions gave while he tried not to barf there and then in Thorin's impeccable boots.

Yes, Thorin did seem hell bent in driving him mad with questions and suspense…and apparently, killing him as well.

**#**

As expected, Bilbo awoke halfway through the night when his stomach ached, he immediately sat up and wrapped his arms over his torso, trying to ease the pain, but it seemed that the pain increased with every passing minute.

Most of the dwarves were so deep in sleep none was awakened by Bilbo's grunts of pain. Soon, it was not only pain invading him but shivers and sweat coursing through his frail body. He wanted help, yet at the same time he didn't want to burden the dwarves.

He knew someone must be on the night watch so he counted the dwarves heads; Fili, Kili, Bifur, Bolfur, Bombur, Nori, Ori, Dori, Balin, Dwalin,Gloin, Thorin—Oin, was missing. Bilbo struggled to his feet and began for the search of the dwarf, whispering his name, until he finally found him a bit far from camp.

"How can I help you, young hobbit?" Asked the dwarf, his hearing aid stuck in his ear, curiosity in his eyes.

"I think I'm feeling rather sick."

"You are what?"

"I'm feeling sick."

"Feeling seeped?"

"No! Sick! Sick!" Hissed Bilbo, feeling his whole body loose its vigor and strength while Oin stared at him intently, as if the silence would grant him silence, and Bilbo gave a loud sigh in frustration. "Oh, for crying out—Just help me, Oin! I'm feeling sick!"

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Chirped the other, and headed towards the set of sleeping dwarves, and to Bilbo's horror, walked over them as if they were mere rugs. Some moaned and cursed, others didn't even budge, but as Oin sneakily and steadily walked by Thorin, the leader snapped his eyes open and sat up, and Bilbo wanted the ground to open up and devour him.

"What is the matter, Oin?" He snapped.

"The Halfling says he isn't feeling well." Said the other as he stuck his hand deep into a sack and searched.

Thorin turned to face Bilbo, who simply gulped and waited for the other to react. The dwarf king stood and walked towards him. "What's the matter?"

Bofur and Balin awoke soon after, standing by Thorin to look at their sick burglar. "My stomach hurts…" Whimpered Bilbo, hugging his stomach tighter, a horrid sound emitting from it and Bofur made a face.

"Oh, that sounds like a wee malfunction. Or maybe worms." Bilbo groaned, and another sound grumbled, Bofur nodded. "Aye, worms."

Bilbo wanted to do nothing more but Bofur to shut up.

"Drink up." Oin said as he handed a vial over to Bilbo, who took it and smelled it, making a face, and with reluctance drank up the foul smelling liquid—no one ever said medicine's tasty.

"Feeling better, laddie?" Asked Balin. Making Bilbo want to scream at him, however, like the well-mannered hobbit he was raised to be, Bilbo bit his tongue and answered with a weak 'No'.

The pain didn't stop. The hobbit looked up at Thorin helplessly, begging for help, to stop the pain, but nothing but senseless blabber left his lips, and in moments the hobbit felt something churn inside him, and like a volcano, fire roamed up his throat and without even a moments hint, Bilbo vomited.

Bilbo knew he'd lost consciousness, but he still didn't know how long it'd been, maybe hours, few minutes, or even days. However, it didn't matter how long it'd been, he soon learned that he was not alone. Thorin and Balin had been by his side as long as he could remember.

"Thorin, what did you give the hobbit?" Bilbo recognized Balin's voice, followed by wrinkled hands landing on his forehead, checking his temperature before a wet cloth was placed over.

"Nothing." Growled the other stubbornly.

"Thorin," Said the other deeply.

Bilbo waited patiently until Thorin answered, and may a lightning bold hit him, Thorin Oakenshield was stuttering and mumbling in embarrassment. "I cooked for him."

Nothing in the plate seemed something so mundane! No wonder Bilbo thought it faintly reminded him of something!

"Why?" Bilbo was asking himself the same thing, and in curiosity, Bilbo opened one eye slightly and looked at the scene. Thorin had a hand over his lips, eyes away from Balin's questioning gaze.

And what he said next was barely audible: "He likes eating."

Bilbo felt something push up his throat, and with a horrid gurgling, gagging sound he rose from the ground and leaned over the side, and barfed once again.

So much for decorum.


End file.
